An Homage to Spring - May 2025 Vol. Nº19
In all honesty, I have not experienced a true spring for over a decade. I live in Los Angeles where seasons are an illusion. An idea simply produced by marine layer mornings and gusts of ‘Santa Ana Winds’ and people who are adamant that LA does in fact have seasons (it does not). And for most, that sounds like a dream. But I am a hopeless romantic and when it comes to the lack of seasons, I suffer deeply.
I long for chaotic springs. The springs where one moment you’re caught in a momentary rain storm, and the next you are bathed in warmth and sunshine, the only hint that it was ever pouring? The damp café tables and shattered peonies. Spring is a season that simply cannot make up her mind and I love her for it. Xx
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The most delicious way to celebrate spring. Seasonal risotto… the answer to all of life’s problems.
A brief but magical stay in a 16th century castle. From picturesque parklands to exceptional dining experiences, the fact that I ever left is incomprehensible.
“In May, witness nature’s resilience as it dares to blossom.”
Spring into travel
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Old Town Ibiza. Sure to tantalize your soul with its beguiling & ancient cobblestone streets all bursting with quaint shops & idyllic sidewalk cafés.
If I were a Boutique Hotel. From leopard print sprinkled here there and everywhere to the coziest corners meant for cups of tea and novels, it was love at first sight.
Città Sant’Angelo. This ancient hilltop village embodies the art of slow, intentional living and is home to the Bed and Breakfast that stole my heart.
Spring, she keeps us on our toes… Ever changing, ever evolving, a promise of beauty and adventure all wrapped up butter yellows and chartreuse green. Like spring, Le Supper Club’s May edition is short but sweet – An adventure in Ireland and a stunning spring inspired dinner, the perfect taste of the season.
In Los Angeles, the shift in seasons is very subtle. With seemingly forever good weather, I always long for a true spring and autumn, a time when promises and possibilities seem most prevalent. In Los Angeles, our springtime is shown with the notorious moodiness of ‘May gray’ and ‘June gloom’. A time when mornings are overcast due to the change in temperature against the ocean creating a marine layer that makes LA, for a moment, seem as though it could be somewhere else. The few trees that had dropped their leaves a few months prior now bear the classic spring green buds and the unforgettable scent of jasmine dances through the air. I have learned to read the subtleties. The Santa Ana winds, the shift in light, the way the heat builds and lingers, the brief use of my little apartment radiator… But today, as I write this article, it is 97º F, record breaking heat for Los Angeles this time of year, and I am melting in my Silver Lake apartment because I refuse to get my air conditioning units out of storage and set them into the window just quite yet. I am holding on to the idea of spring just a bit longer, telling myself that this is a fluke heat wave and that AC is not necessary until at least the end of June. I may just have to give into the heat of the city earlier this year however.
Spring is a delicate season. One that feels tender and sweet and almost fragile. Flavors and colors come on slowly, coaxing us gently out of a sepia toned winter haze and into a technicolor vision that has us wondering why we ever craved the cozy nights of winter. To me, that is the beauty of Mother Nature – She gently unfolds, enchanting us into new chapters of unique splendor with a promise of new adventure, a perfectly timed exodus of one season just as we begin to crave another. And right on cue, the gift of spring has arrived just as I was beginning to wonder why I ever claimed to love winter. A notion that I know will return in the autumn as I grow weary of the endless heat of summer. But for now, it is spring. And it is easy to fall in love with the quiet moments, the dawn of the season’s beauty and the promise of a world in full bloom..
“I thought that spring must last forevermore; for I was young and loved, and it was May.”